


The Cotton Candy Incident

by Cdarkheartzero



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Irken Empire (Invader Zim), Post-Invader Zim: Enter the Florpus, Smeets (Invader Zim)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdarkheartzero/pseuds/Cdarkheartzero
Summary: The Tallest send Zim on an earth mission to obtain an item of interest. During the quest, however, Zim confronts a figure from his past who quickly overwhelms him, capturing the invader. In an attempt to find him, Dib, Zim’s secret housemate Skoodge, Gaz (she was bribed), Gir and Minimoose travel to space to search for any clues to his disappearance. The kidnapping takes a dangerously strange turn when the very origins of the Irken Empire come from hiding, revealing the secrets of how twisted the First Tallest’s vision of the planet had become, essentially sending the Irk into a state of chaos. Of coarse, the sneak attack by the resisty doesn’t help either.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	The Cotton Candy Incident

**Author's Note:**

> I finally worked up the courage to post my AU. I hope you guys enjoy it and any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

Boring. UGH. This human educational system was truly a waste of precious little time. For a race of creature that lived for approximately 100 measly years, they certainly loved to just piss it away. Each disgusting classmate’s biological clock tick-tick-ticking away 5 days a week for 12 earth rotations. He almost pitied them. ALMOST. 

Perfectly disguised eyes glanced around the classroom, this steel gated prison he was forced to attend. Zim often spent the days fantasizing what other BETTER things he could be doing right now. A new invention. A new brilliantly devious plan to rule this rock of dirt and FILTH. Questioning what on Irk Gir was rambling about the morning of, attempting to piece a string of sensible thought processes to his henchman’s circuitry. 

He knew every imperfection the room had to offer. Could perfectly pinpoint every stain, chip, crack, piece of graffiti. There was nothing his INCREDIBLE VISION couldn’t locate. Whether it was his years of training- learning to take in every detail of his surroundings and use them to his advantage- or the fact that he was a total neat freak, he couldn’t figure out which was at fault for his eagle eye. Still, he was getting so damn sick of seeing these 4 walls everyday. He needed to not do this- at least for a little while. 

The door slowly creaked open, barely noticeable to anyone. Zim startled when the door suddenly slammed shut, a solid black gust slithered in and rising from behind the educator’s desk. Ms. Bitters seems to have the ability to materialize as she seems fit, much to the discomfort of everyone else surrounding her. Zim never once found her human and assumed she was some eldritch abomination spawned from the dark depths of some unspeakable evil, probably located under the school. He had heard tale that Dib was able to summon a creature or two in his travels and decided his home room teacher was a similar monster. Skin wrinkled and cracked, void of color. A voice that hissed like a wild animal. The way she contorted herself to swirl around, he was almost certain she had no skeletal structure. Even when the two of them were segregated during the lice fiasco, he couldn’t detect any biological frequencies from her. Not a single breath or thump of heart. Just… silence like the cold darkness of space. 

Yet here she stood, the emperor of the room. One that even he knew best not to battle. Within her long, withered fingers, a stack of papers. 

“Okay children” she screeched , Zim swearing he could see smoke spewing from her mouth between words. The room became silent in an instant. Order. The way a leader should command. The respect (or fear) they deserved. All eyes on her. Honestly, the elder creature would have made a marvelous drill sergeant. 

“Seeing as we are all STUCK together- and the school board has declared we have no more days off since the volcano incident-“

A collective shiver struck the students. Each one with their own trauma of the event. Zim didn’t remember much of the incident itself truthfully. Just that a giant paper mache volcano in the back of the classroom exploded when THAT IDIOT MELVIN added too much of some chemical to its belly. There was a rush of something hot that flooded the classroom in less than a blink of an eye. There were no screams. There was no time. There was only an “oops”. All Zim knew is that he came to on the classroom floor, his entire leg stripped of all skin and muscle. And he was considered lucky. It was deemed unnecessary to call an ambulance for whatever reason (thank goodness) so his robot parents had to come pick him up, giving him a measly two days to heal. For an Irken, this was entirely possible (because, you know, they are AMAZING) but for the fellow humans? Some students still have bandages and casts on. Hell, even now the burning in Zims bones would pop through every now and again. He could also remember the smell of burning flesh. old kid… oh…. poor old kid. May he Rest In Peace. 

He snapped out of thought and looked towards the front of the classroom. Seems Ms. Bitters stopped long enough for the other children to do the same before continuing to speak. 

“The teachers have decided a mandatory field trip is in order. Get you little monsters out of our hair for a day. So, the student body will be going to the traveling carnival this Friday. The cost is $20 and if you don’t attend, it’s an automatic fail for the semester.”

A hand raised by the window swiftly.  
“But Ms. Bitters, isn’t that a bit much? To fail because you don’t go on some crummy field trip? What about kids that can’t afford the fee? Also- $20 for a traveling carnival? What a total rip off!”

Dib. That annoying little grease weasel. EVERYTIME that noise tube opened, Zim had to remind himself that as fun as it was clocking the cheaters off Dib’s disgusting face was, a week's detention was just not worth it. He could just launch his assault after school, out of the eyes of the adults. He felt his face scrunch in pure aggression as he stared daggers at the human.  
The human was all too happy to fling daggers right back. 

“To answer Dib’s questions- No. And I don’t care how you get there. Sell your blood if you need to.” The reaper said as she slithered around the classroom, dropping papers on each child’s desk. 

“Not again” Dib thought, rubbing his arm, never forgetting the last time he sold his blood for goods. Eyes sharply fixating on the “skin-conditioned” classmate. 

“What’s wrong, Dib?” Zim teased “does the Faire not entertain you? What kind of normal meat-larvae DOES NOT LIKE the merriment of rides and games? Which of us is truly an alien?” 

“You-!” Dib screamed, slamming his fists on his desk and standing on his wobbling chair. He knew it would be best to NOT test the strength of the seat, seeing as it was held up by tape and a 2x4, but his frustration (pride) refused to listen to logic. 

“It’s always you! YOU ARE THE ALIEN!”

“On again like always, Dib? Will you never cease the slander and LIES?! It is apparent you have a vendetta against me because of my uniquely INCREDIBLE appearance but this is pathetic.”

“Oh PLEASE. Yes, I am SO SORRY that I don’t know the majesty of being a no nosed, NO EARED, reptilian skinned, 3 fingered space-monster! Oh, WOE IS ME.” 

Zim slowly turned to the classmate behind him, Zita, resting his arms on the seat back and frowned. “Why is he like this?” He asked, pointing one of the aforementioned 3 fingers towards the investigator’s seat. 

She shrugged, sighing heavily “ I don’t know.” 

“Okay. Okay. Look here.” Dib said, crawling away from his desk and hastily running over to the chalkboard in front of the room, running past Ms. Bitters who was still handing out papers, largely ignoring the events unfolding around her. Zim couldn’t stand anything about the human. That stupid hair. Those comically sized glasses. The flow of that dumb trench coat Dib swore he looked cool in. 

“Okay. So, let’s do this instead. I have proof- PHYSICAL PROOF- of Zim outside his disguise.”

Claws slammed his desktop “YOU HAVE NOTHING, DIB-STINK!” 

“Oh yeah!?” The eldest Membrane child spit, going through his coat pockets. “Then how do you explain this!?” 

A photograph. Sneakily and creepily taken from what was clearly a bush across the street from Zim’s lair. You could even see leaves in the image. On full display, undisguised magenta bug eyes, lekku free and robot assistant shining from the moon’s glow in all his metallic majesty… as Gir ate dirt in the middle of the night and Zim was clearly screaming and pointing for him to get back to the house. A small purple moose could be found levitating in the doorframe, camera too shaky to capture small details but looking shocked. 

Fear struck the soldier. Sure he was expecting some piece of “evidence” but not ACTUAL EVIDENCE! Maybe a wad of “galactic gum” or a crudely drawn diagram but this… this was an issue. 

Panicked contacts met smug bifocals and the atmosphere of the room changed. Walls closing in, even for a brief moment. Zim didn’t have the upper hand and the loss of control was causing him to spiral. The whispers of the classroom didn’t help at all. “Calm down.” He chanted to himself “think. Think.” 

“Well? Anything to say to THAT, space-boy?” 

Worry in his voice, he mumbled “that’s… this…. Zim was ill!” 

“Uh-ha. You were “ill?”

“YES! If the Dib must know- Zim had a case of “the pink eyes”. It happens sometimes as a result of my skin condition! The very same condition you seem to insist on reminding everyone about! As if being different wasn’t hard enough being from a foreign country in this new world of yours. But on a daily basis, you discriminate against me based on my complexion! Since day 1!” 

Whispers and murmurs filled the hostile air. All low enough where words couldn’t easily be distinguished but Zim’s sensitive antenna picked up easily- the tides were turning. 

“Okay. Pink eye. That’s totally believable. Where did your hair go?” 

“It’s a hat.”

“A hat? With antenna on it?”

“Yes.”

“In your identical skin color?”

“Again- YES. Zim’s female parent made it for him.”

Whispers and chatter continued stronger. Yes. YES. They were turning on Dib-shit. Again. 

Dib tensed up. He too noticed the classroom starting to shift. “And the robot? What about that, Zim? And the moose?” 

“A balloon and a toy. This is pathetic, Dib. Let’s ask THIS then? Why were you stalking outside of Zim’s home in the middle of the night? Why take photos of another human earth-child relentlessly?” Zim stood in his chair, further making a scene. “What is your obsession with me? Why are you so crazy? Did you learn nothing from your trip to the crazy house for boys?!” 

“Wait- don’t try to turn this on me! I’m trying to save the world from you and your alien leaders!” 

Zim smiled smugly. Good. The Dib was backing down. All eyes were on the elite as they awaited a comeback. The center of positive attention. As he should be. They were eating out of his magnificent hands. Just a little further… 

“All you are doing is showing off your decaying mental stability by flashing sneaky photos taken of a sick child playing in their own yard. I’m not the bad guy here Dib.” 

The classmate’s conversations became much more loud, more coherent. All of them displeased with the investigator's actions. Comments like “that’s really creepy” and “I feel bad for Zim” flew. The letter M loudly stating “Just leave him alone, Dib. jeez.” 

Crumbling. Zim could read it on Dib’s face. The confidence was fading fast. He wanted to melt into the floor and die. Honestly, part of Zim would have loved that. The other would have kinda, maybe, sorta missed tearing him down like this. 

“I..I-“ Dib stammered and paled. Like a ghostly apparition, solid black shadow materialized behind him, looming over with the scent of death on her lips.  
An unearthly growl snuck from the wrinkled throat, long lifeless fingers resting on his shoulder. Ms. Bitters had finished her task and control of the classroom was hastily handed over. 

“DIB! Go take your seat!” She howled and a shiver plowed through his core. “YESMA’AMSORRYMA’AM!” He belted, rushing to obey her command. 

“Now, students-“ she began and class eyes shifted from watching Dib pathetically (and most importantly: defeatedly) crawl into his seat and pout to back in her direction in unison. Even Zim felt himself prep for attack, much like his military days. The aura his teacher radiated was truly terrifying. Having been through literal war and an actual prison at one point, he felt more fear for this creature than any other he encountered. 

“-these are due tomorrow morning for Friday’s trip. Fake a signature if you have to, but bring the money and the bus leaves 8A.M. If you arrive late, you will be escorted to the carnival by Mr. Morris”. 

Mr. Morris. The physical educations teacher. Zim dealt very little with him seeing as he had a parents note and doctor’s note (from doctor Minnie. Minimoose’s idea) excusing him from such lessons. But word spread of his foul stink of sweat and shame like wildfires around campus. The last student escorted to a trip by his hand was said to have some form of PTSD afterwards, plagued by the smell of disgusting man-meats and unable to stand the very thought of the word “bologna”, though it was never explained why. Either way, the entire situation was best to be avoided. 

Gloved hands reached for the paper, eyeing the atrocious hand-done artwork of a tent and roller coaster, noting the clearly handwritten selling points of the trip. “Get your kids out of your hair” was his personal favorite. The students were handed out many forms done in such a manner. Rumor has it a child punished for mooning the principal is being held captive somewhere in the depths of the school, chained and forced to hand copy papers in order to save on professional inked copies. Zim even noticed on the back of his the words “please help me” but chose to ignore them. He couldn’t be bothered about the suffering of a miserable schoolmate. He had better things to do. Also- and most importantly- he didn’t care. 

The students chatted, large groups engaging in pre-field trip excitement. What rides they wished to vomit on (their words, not his), what food-grease they wished to enjest. What farm filth animals they wanted to feed. Annoying background noise, honestly. Zim couldn’t be bothered to engage in conversation but he would not dare say he wasn’t at least a little intrigued and slightly excited to not be in this classroom for a day. 

He had only been to an amusement park once before but had not had the opportunity to really investigate- seeing as he was battling a gigantic kaiju hamster at the time. From what he was able to gather, the carnival is just a smaller, shittier, more filthy version of that.

He raised his bent finger to his lips and hummed in thought, completely ignoring the honey eyes still staring at him from across the room. At best, he would actually find something of worth on this trip. At worst- he was given another reason to wipe this planet off the universal map.


End file.
